Classroom 221B
by The Seduction of Deduction
Summary: John is a teacher at the high school Sherlock goes to! Things get interesting when Sherlock claims to wanting to solve a murder...


**Sherlock: Seduction Deduction does not own us in any way shape or form, even though I can see she yearns for it…**

**Seduction Deduction: ⊙ω⊙**

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"_First day of school_," John thought to himself, arranging the textbooks on the desks with the syllabuses neatly stacked on top of them. He counted the desks once, twice, three times, to make sure everything was in order. He was nervous, to say the least. It was his first year as a teacher and he was, well, stressing it. He opened one of his drawers, stocked up with three bags of peppermints. He opened one up and popped the striped candy into his mouth, sucking on it softly. The mint always calmed him down somehow. Nervous quirk, his mother had always said. And it really was. Whenever something shook him to the bone, he always had the mints on hand. He watched the clock. Fifteen minutes. He made sure his PowerPoint was ready to be shown, everything in its place. Yes, yes, all good.

The early bell rang soon after, a couple of students filling in the desks, but not yet all. The rest poured in slowly, one by one, speaking to their friends and him, leaning against his desk, watching, waiting for the last bell to ring. And when it did, the students took their seats. He flashed a small smile at them. "_This can work_," he thought, and then put up the PowerPoint, which plainly read:

**AP U.S. History**

**Mr. Watson**

**Room 221B**

**Warm Up:**

** 1. What would you like to accomplish in this class?**

** 2. What do you look for in a teacher?**

** 3. What would you like to accomplish this semester?**

John gave his class a half smile. "Please pull out your assigned summer homework as well as the notebook specifically for this class," he told them, as a brunet stumbled into the classroom, his curly locks covering his eyes, books in hand.

"My apologies, sir," the young man said, sitting down in a desk in the back.

John presses his lips together and narrowed his eyes at the teen. "Fine this time, but please make sure to be on time tomorrow," he told him. "Your name is?"

"The name is Sherlock Holmes," he said almost snarky.

John nods once. "Alright, Mr. Holmes, let us not make this a normal thing, do you understand?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Yes, _professor_."

"Work on your warm up," John said, pointing to the board, instructing everyone to do so.

And they did. Five minutes later, John collected the warm ups with a small grin. Everything was going… Seemingly alright. He smiled at everyone. "Now, here comes the hard part," he said, clearing his throat, "there's a test today basted on the things you worked on over the summer. I assume you all studied?"

He glances around the room, some looking confident, the others looking like deer in headlights. He passes out the papers; the few page tests should be nothing for the group of juniors. It was the basics, thirty questions directly from the book and their eighth grade history class.

** "What are the Thirteen Colonies?"**

** "Which was the first of the Thirteen Colonies?"**

**"Who wrote the Constitution?"**

**"Who wrote the Bill of Rights?"**

**"What is Due Process?"**

**"When did the United States become the country it is today?"**

John let the class use up the rest of class to finish the test. It shouldn't have taken so long, but he let it slip, it was the first day.

After class, that brunet, Sherlock Holmes, stood up and did a quick look over of him. "Afghanistan or Iraq?"

John blinks, "Sorry?"

"Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?"

John's heart started beating in his chest, quickly, "Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you—"

A girl (who John couldn't for the life of him remember her name) walked up to Sherlock with a styrofoam cup in hand.

"Ah, Molly!" (_Molly! That's what it was!_ John found himself thinking.) "Coffee. Thank you. What happened to the lipstick?" Sherlock asked, now focusing on her.

Molly shook her head, handing him the coffee. "It wasn't working for me."

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement," Sherlock spoke, a bit rude for John's liking. "Your mouth's too small now."

John rolls his eyes. "To class, both of you," he said, practically shoving them out of the door. "_How did he know?" _He thought. "_How did he know about Afghanistan?" _

Later that night at home, he was still thinking of Sherlock as he one by one graded the tests. To his surprise, Sherlock was the only one to get a complete 100% on all of it.

He, curious, then went to the Warm Ups, finding Sherlock's quickly.

_**What would you like to accomplish in this class?**_

_If I were to give out this information, than it would ruin my experiment. _

**_What do you look for in a teacher?_**

_I look for someone I can tune out easily while my mind must be somewhere else._

**_What would you like to accomplish this semester?_**

_Solve the murder of Isaac Hardy. _

John scoffed. This was going to be an interesting year.

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**Author's notes: If you, uh, liked it… Review and stuff. I know it's short and we don't have too much yet but we do have a something**

**OHHH! And I read this idea! Brownie points!~~~~~ You can vote for whoever you want to get 'Brownie Points' eg: "John gets brownie points for being a confused hedgehog!" You get 1 brownie point per chapter you can give to someone, and you can also split it between two people if you want. I'll end up tallying the points up each chapter. The one with the leading score will have something something special happen to them….**


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